Page 16 of Resurfaced Passion
“No, I’m heading down to the library to spend the afternoon helping Winter restock the romances and murder mysteries.”
His mouth twitched. He once took a wander through her kindle she’d left on the counter in the diner while she served someone else. And it was rows and rows of book covers with guys in a semi state of undress.
Add in her intervention-worthy DVD collection of rom-com’s, Paige was a romance junkie.
She was the one woman he knew who would sit up until midnight when a new book from her favorite authors would release and binge read all night long.
He didn’t even know what binge reading meant until he met Paige.
It was hard leaving her there, with king dick realtor just hovering in the background. It was always hard leaving her, that wasn’t changing.
But he made himself ride off and he didn’t look back at her clutching the pink flower to her nose, wearing her little happy smile.
Of fucking course he looked back.
He always looked back at her, needing that last glimpse to keep him ticking through the day.
A headache brewed at the back of his neck just like clockwork. The dull throbbing spiked his urgency to get to the club. The Butcher had some good pain pills, better than those prescribed from the doctor he saw in Denver.
Stress, the doctor said. Fucking stress. Reaper carried enough to last him three lifetimes.
But he wouldn’t do anything differently.
He turned left on the road that would take him out of town and toward the compound near the base of the Colorado mountains and swept his eyes to the side and found her still standing there, all pretty in white with the hem of her skirt blowing gently at the same time the breeze whipped her hair around her face.
She was still clutching the damn flower like he’d given her gold.
Reaper’s heart stumbled and ached, it hurt so bad because every instinct told him to ride back, sweep her up, kiss the ever-loving fuck out of her and never let her go.
Taste her.
Own her.
Belong to her.
She lifted her hand to him, the one holding the flower and Reaper nodded in return. His pain increasing both in his chest and through his skull.
He’d be lucky to reach the compound in time to swallow some pills and pass out on the nearest couch.
Migraines he could deal with, he had for years now.
Being so close to Paige and not having her? That was killing him.
He was face planted on one of the couches in the MC compound a little over an hour later. With pills in his bloodstream he just had to wait the pain out, but it was hard to ignore the throbbing going through his skull.
Reaper groaned, pulling his skull cap down over his eyes and waited for death.
It was always in his weakest moments the dreams came for him.
Unguarded.
His defenses breached.
His body switched off and his memories took over.
Sheslipped into his head and smiled like she owned every inch of his mind.
It wasn’t as though his wife didn’t live there already.
